Pity Party
by mermaidrain
Summary: Harry Potter verse: What does Ron do when he is without his best friend? Takes place during Goblet of Fire when Harry and Ron aren't speaking to each other.


_Stupid! Stupid? Ron Weasley was not stupid! Who did that fancy prat think he was talking to?_ Ron was _still_ hopping mad the next morning about what Harry had said. He stomped down the dormitory stairs, past the revelers in the Gryffindor common room _still_ celebrating Harry's triumph from the night before, and out the portrait hole.

"Stupid!" he yelled, startling the fat lady in her portrait.

"What did you just call me?" she hollared back at him.

"Not you," Ron raised his hands defensively and backed off slowly. "I was just talking in general terms."

"Well I never!" she crossed her arms in front of her.

"Sorry. Really. Didn't mean it." He turned around and ran down the flight of stairs in front of him. He was hoping it was still early enough that he could avoid people. He hadn't gotten much sleep, tossing and turning all night. How was he supposed sleep after the worst fight of his life with the person he _thought_ was his best friend?

_Harry's a … a … stupid git!_ he thought to himself. _ Why can't he tell me how he put his name in the Goblet of Fire? Why is he lying to me? I'm supposed to be his best friend!_

"HA!" he shouted coming around a corner and frightening a couple of Ravenclaw girls so badly that one dropped her backpack.

"What are you about, jumping around corners like that!" the other girl yelled at his retreating back.

"I didn't jump," he shouted back over his shoulder, not bothering to stick around and apologize. Next thing you'd know he'd be scaring a teacher and getting a detention. _Wouldn't that be bloody perfect!_ He decided that maybe it was better if he just went straight to the Great Hall for breakfast. Perhaps he'd feel better after a bite to eat. Harry was still asleep–probably resting for his next big interview—so it should be safe.

The Great Hall was nearly empty to Ron's great relief. The Hufflepuff and Gryffindor tables were conspicuously absent of students. They had probably stayed up late celebrating and were now sleeping in. Ron snorted. "Well yippidee do da," he said as he got a seat at the Gryffindor table. He saw someone hurrying towards him out of the corner of his eye.

"Ron," Hermione said as she sat beside him, "we need to talk."

Ron snorted again. "Oh really? What about? The weather perhaps?" He grabbed a piece of toast and bit into it savagely, ripping a chunk out in anger.

Hermione looked at him with concern. "Are you all right?"

"Oh sure! I'm hunky-dory!" Ron flashed her a smile that came out more like a grimace.

"What's gotten into you?"

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing." He glowered at the scrambled eggs as he scooped them onto his plate with a bit more energy than was needed. Hermione just watched him with a quizzical look as eggs ended up flying everywhere.

"Ok," she said, "as long as we've got that settled, we need to talk about Harry."

"Harry?" Ron exploded. "Talk about Harry? Yes, let's talk about that stupid git why don't we? He's a liar, won't even tell _me _how he put his name in the Goblet of Fire. Kept saying he didn't do it. He just wants the attention! And the reward! I bet he likes the _air of mystery_ this gives him! Well fine! He can have it then! He can have it all!"

Hermione stared at him in shock, her mouth open. "Are you serious?"

"Of course I'm bloody serious! And he even had the gall to call me stupid! Stupid! Who does he think he is?"

"Ron," Hermione hesitated, "Harry couldn't have entered his name in the Goblet. No student could have. They'd never be able to—"

"Oh come on, Hermione! Of course he did it. He was bragging just yesterday morning about how he could do it and not get caught. And now he doesn't want to get in trouble."

"But Ron—"

"Don't Hermione! Just don't!" Ron got up and stomped away from the table.

"Where are you going?" she yelled after him.

"For a walk around the lake where I won't be bothered by people that want to talk about his royal Champion-ness!" He heard Hermione growl in frustration behind him as he stalked out of the Great Hall and towards the front doors.

At least there wouldn't be that many people wandering around the castle grounds this early in the morning. He just didn't want to talk to anyone about how great Harry was going to be in the Triwizard Tournament. He'd had enough of Harry and his successes to last a lifetime.

Maybe he should go hide in the Forbidden Forest for a while. But then he thought about all the things hidden in there, particularly giant spiders, and decided against it with a shudder. And then there was the chance that he might run into Hagrid. He didn't want to talk to him either. In the end, Ron decided to just walk around the lake like he'd originally intended. If he was lucky, maybe the squid would reach out one of its giant tentacles and grab him, sucking him down to a horrible death.

Ron walked along, kicking a stone in front of him every few feet. _Oh bugger!_ He felt awful, like he wanted to throw up. Thank goodness he hadn't eaten anything at breakfast.

He sat down on a boulder nearby and put his head in his hands. He wanted nothing more than to cry. He felt as if someone had died. And since no one was within a mile of him (he'd long since passed the Durmstrang ship moored by the castle), he let an angry tear or two slide.

_Why'd it have to be Harry? It was always Harry!_ He'd really wanted this one, to win a thousand Galleons and give it to his mom to help with all the school expenses. He'd fantasized about seeing her face beaming down at him, so happy that he'd finally done something worth noticing. And then there was Fleur with her silvery blonde hair draped over him as she hung on his arm and rested her head on his shoulder. But no! Harry had to go and enter his name without telling him how.

He felt betrayed. He trusted Harry and they always did everything together. But for some reason, this time Harry had done it alone. _Why'd he do it? Why hadn't he told Ron how to enter his name too? _Ron wiped at his face angrily. _He had wanted all of the attention, hadn't he?_ Ron kicked out at the stone he'd been walking along with him and it splashed into the lake with a thud.

Then he heard the voices of someone approaching. He got up, looked around the bend and saw Harry and Hermione walking towards him, though they were a ways off yet. He didn't want them to see him like this so he dashed off to hide behind a copse of trees that lined the lake.

Hermione must have dragged Harry out here in the hopes of getting them to make up. _Ha!_ he thought to himself. _Fat chance._ He saw them walk along the lake in front of him and come to a stop. He couldn't make out what they were saying until he heard Harry yell.

"I'm not running around after him trying to make him grow up!" Several owls in a nearby tree took flight, almost startling Ron out of the tree line. But there was only one person Harry could've been talking about. _Fine, if that's the way he wants it, that's the way he'll get it! He wasn't going to talk to Harry until he apologized to him._ He didn't deserve to be treated this way and then to be badmouthed when _he_ hadn't done anything wrong. _He_ hadn't betrayed his best friend and then lied to his face.

"This is war," Ron whispered to Harry as he and Hermione walked off.

* * *

The next few days were exceptionally lonely for Ron. He tried hanging out with Fred and George, but they seemed _really_ occupied with making money. They kept putting their heads together and whispered to each other, excluding him. If he tried to figure out what they were up to they'd usually ended up telling him to bugger off. And Harry was the only one that got his jokes. Dean and Seamus tried, but they just didn't get him the same way that Harry did. It just wasn't the same without him. 

But this didn't lessen his resolve. In fact, the more he missed him, the angrier he became. Hermione tried to get them to talk to each other a million times each day, but he ignored her attempts. It was bad enough that he had so many classes together with Harry and had to sleep in the same room as him, but he was _not _going to talk to him. Yet this was a fine line to walk as Hermione was his only true friend left and he didn't want to offend her. He had to have _someone_ to talk to.

Then one day while waiting for Potions class to start (or rather, waiting for Snape to show up) he saw Harry and Malfoy get into a duel and Hermione had been hit in the face by Malfoy's hex. That careless clod he'd once called a friend had let Hermione get hurt. He dashed forward to make sure she'd been all right. Her hands were clamped over her mouth until he dragged them away. Her front teeth looked like those of a giant beaver and were growing at an alarming rate, reaching towards her chin. She felt them and let out a terrified cry.

"What is all this noise about?" Snape had finally shown up. He pointed a finger at Malfoy and said, "Explain."

"Potter attacked me, sir—"

"We attacked each other at the same time!" Harry shouted.

"—and he hit Goyle—look—"

Snape examined Goyle's face which had bloomed into a forest of mushrooms from Harry's hex.

"Hospital wing, Goyle," Snape said calmly, ignoring everything Harry said. Ron felt a bit of satisfaction with that. Of course he would ignore everything those greasy Slytherins had done, punishing only Harry. Ron found that he didn't care, but Snape was also ignoring Hermione.

"Malfoy got Hermione!" Ron said. "Look!" And he forced Hermione to show Snape her teeth. She had been trying to hide them again but now they were down past her collar.

Snape had the gall to look Hermione square in the eyes and say, "I see no difference." Hermione ran away crying, and Ron had it. Hermione didn't deserve that!

Ron saw red and had started screaming all sorts of obscenities at Snape at the same time Harry had. It had almost felt like they were united again in their hate for the head of the Slytherin house. And of course their punishment had been a joint one as well: 50 points deducted from Gryffindor house and a detention for both of them. And _of course_ Malfoy and his gang were free to do as you please.

They'd both walked into class and to the back of the dungeon. Ron was shaking with anger. It was so unfair and so uncalled for. He had been so angry with Snape that he almost sat down with Harry as if everything had been all right. He'd almost forgotten about his oath. But just in time he'd realized what he had been about to do and turned and sat down with Dean and Seamus instead. Weasleys didn't break oaths.

* * *

The first trip of the year to Hogsmeade Ron was stuck going with Fred, George and Lee Jordan. Hermione was no doubt going to go with Harry. She'd been spending a lot of time with him lately as she insisted he needed her help researching for the Triwizard Tournament. Any excuse to be in the library was a good one for Hermione though. Or perhaps they really were dating now like Rita Skeeter said. For some reason, this made Ron madder than ever. 

If it was true, they could at least tell him. Perhaps Hermione now sided with Harry too. Ron felt the tips of his ears burning as he walked through Honeyduke's behind Lee. He noticed Fred and George weren't getting anything, but yet again were whispering with their heads together. He knew that if he questioned them, they'd tell him to get lost again. And as he didn't want to be alone right now, he ignored them and kept looking around. He got some chocolate frogs and a box of Bertie Bott's Every-Flavor-Beans before they headed over to the Three Broomsticks pub for some butterbeer.

"So why didn't you guys stock up on any candy this time?" Lee asked Fred and George after they'd all gotten a table.

"We didn't want to pollute our research with inferior products," said Fred.

"Inferior?" Lee asked in disbelief.

"We're trying to sell candy, not buy it," said George.

At that moment, Hermione had walked into the pub. Ron started guffawing and slapping his knee as if George had just told a great joke. "That's a good one George!" he said. He noticed that Hermione was alone anyway. _Darn, wasted effort!_ He glowered at his butterbeer.

"You all right there Ron," asked Fred and Ron noticed that the twins and Lee were all staring at him as if he'd just gone looney.

"Erh, yeah, it's just, you know, what mom said and all I didn't think you were serious."

"Well of course we're serious," said George, "can you imagine us at a desk job?"

"Not likely!" Lee snorted and they were off, laughing and talking again as if nothing had happened.

Ron watched Hermione get two butterbeers and slip one under the table. He narrowed his gaze in suspicion. Harry had to be here! _He's probably wearing his invisibility cloak, but why? Rita Skeeter has come and gone already._ Ron felt himself begin to worry. What was going on with Harry these days anyway? Besides the obvious Triwizard Tournament that is. Then he saw Mad Eye Moody and Hagrid approach Hermione's table. They appeared to be looking at Hermione's notebook (no doubt S.P.E.W. stuff as he noticed the pins on the table beside it), but he had to wonder what was really going on. He already knew Hagrid had said no to Hermione's efforts to enroll him in her little endeavor.

When he saw Hagrid and Mad Eye Moody leave, he was _very_ tempted to go over there right then and ask Hermione what was going on. But he reminded himself that he had an oath to fulfill. And it was probably just his imagination any way. It was probably just another way of avoiding him. Harry was probably ashamed at the way he'd treated Ron. _Yeah, that has to be it._

_

* * *

_  
Ron couldn't sleep. It was getting later and later and he had yet to hear Harry come up to bed. It was well after midnight! Everyone else had come up to bed long ago and already fallen asleep. He could hear Neville softly whistling through his teeth when he blew his breath out and Seamus snoring as loud as a chainsaw. Where _was _Harry? 

He kept fighting the urge to go downstairs and check for him to make sure he was okay. What if he'd just slipped out in his invisibility cloak again for some midnight adventure? Ron doubted it. If there was something big going on, Hermione would've told him, wouldn't she?

Then he thought of the time Sirius had tried to break into the tower. Granted he wasn't as evil as they thought, but still, what if You-Know-Who had tried to break in? What if Harry was downstairs bleeding to death in the middle of the night and no one would find him until the morning? What if one of the girls found him?

Even though he knew he shouldn't care, Ron found himself getting out of bed and putting on his slippers. He'd better check just to make sure. He didn't want Ginny scarred for life after all. He padded down the stairs and heard the murmur of voices coming from the common room. It had to be someone plotting something. He crept slower, trying to be as quiet as possible. What if it was Harry's murderers and he could catch them in the act?

But he couldn't hear anything any more. There was a sudden hiss and a scuffle. He ran down the rest of the stairs to find Harry standing in front of the fire staring at him. He was alone. Ron looked around. "Who were you talking to?"

"What's that got to do with you?" Harry snarled. "What are you doing down here at this time of night?"

"I just wondered where you—" Ron stopped. He probably shouldn't say anything about being worried that Harry's head might've been chopped off or something. There was his oath to keep after all. He shrugged. "Nothing. I'm going back to bed."

"Just thought you'd come nosing around, did you?" Harry shouted loud enough to wake the whole house. _What a pompous prat! As if he wanted to know any of his business!_

"Sorry about that," Ron said without meaning it. He could feel the heat rising to his face and knew it was turning red. "Should've realized you didn't want to be disturbed. I'll let you get on with practicing for your next interview in peace." He spit out. And then the unthinkable happened. Harry actually grabbed a badge that said "POTTER REALLY STINKS" off of one of the tables and chucked it across the room at him. It hit his forehead and bounced off. Harry had actually gone and done something violent. Towards him!

"There you go," Harry yelled. "Something for you to wear on Tuesday. You might even have a scar now, if you're lucky. . . . That's what you want, isn't it?" Then he stomped past him up the stairs to bed. Ron was so stunned he forgot to be angry.

Was that really what Harry thought? That he wanted a scar? Not just any scar, but _that_ scar? He shuddered, suddenly cold, and walked to a chair in front of the fire to sit down. He didn't want to be Harry. He didn't want to be "the boy that lived." He tried to imagine what it would be like if his whole family had been killed except himself. What would it be like to be all alone, instead of surrounded by siblings. And all the loneliness he'd been feeling for the last few weeks without Harry in his life overwhelmed him. The feeling of being all alone in the world sat in the pit of his stomach like lead. Ron thought he'd even miss Percy, though he was a prat half the time.

Ron stared at the fire and thought—really thought—for the first time in weeks about the Triwizard Tournament. Did he really want to be famous like Harry, to have survived all the horrible things he'd had to live through? Was fame really worth it?

Then he thought back on all the years he'd known Harry. He'd been his best friend and he knew everything about him. He knew all about those horrible Dursleys, how they starved him or locked him up in his room. He knew that more than anything Harry wanted to live a normal life and that for some reason, Harry envied Ron's family. He even adored those goofy sweaters mom always made for Christmas. He _knew_ Harry didn't want to be famous, the way he always avoided people like the Creevy boys who were thrilled with his fame. He _knew _that but he'd acted like a complete jerk the last month or so.

Ron felt ashamed. He'd been having one hell of a pity party, and for what? He missed Harry and he'd been miserable. And he'd said and done horrible things. How could he possibly be forgiven for all of that? He'd stay up all night thinking if he had to. He was desperate to try and find a way to make it up to Harry. But nothing was coming to him.

* * *

It wasn't until Tuesday night when the first task of the Triwizard Tournament began that he saw Harry again. Truly saw him, by choice. Ron had been avoiding Harry because he'd been so ashamed. But the first night of the Triwizard Tournament made him forget all about that. He'd been dismayed when Cedric had fought his dragon and downright terrified when Fleur had fought hers. He couldn't even bring himself to watch Krum's match, but that was nothing compared to his fear when he realized that Harry was going to be facing a Hungarian Horntail. He'd often heard Charlie say that they were the worst type of dragon. What if Harry died? 

And as if the clouds had cleared away from the sun, Ron _knew_ that Harry hadn't put his name in the goblet himself. Perhaps he'd known all along, but he just hadn't wanted to know the truth. Harry had fought many creatures before—a 3-headed dog, giant spiders, a basilisk—but never for a prize or for fame. He'd always done it to save someone's life or stop You-Know-Who. This was yet another horrible adventure that someone had thrown him into.

He watched in horror as Harry came out and just stood in front of the dragon. What was he doing? Then he saw him leap on this Firebolt when it magically appeared and his heart soared with joy. Harry would _have_ to survive if he was flying, he was so good at it. _Think of this as just another Quidditch match Harry!_ Ron thought, as if Harry could hear him. But then he saw Harry nearly miss a stream of fire and felt his stomach plummet again. He was on a broomstick. If it caught fire, he would undoubtedly fall to his death when it disintegrated. Not to mention Harry would be burnt to a crisp himself. Ron groaned and clutched his head in his hands.

"Are you okay Ron," Hermione asked without looking at him. She was watching Harry too closely to drag her eyes away.

"I think I'm going to be sick," he told her.

"Just don't get sick on me. OH!" she screamed.

Ron looked back up. "What happened?"

"The tail almost got him. Look," she pointed, "it got his shoulder. He's bleeding!"

Ron saw that Harry's shoulder now had a nasty gash. He couldn't watch, but he couldn't afford to look away either. He had to know what was going to happen. Then he saw what Harry was doing. It was almost as if he was dancing with the dragon, flying back and forth, higher and higher, and the dragon's head was swaying back and forth as well.

"He's trying to distract it!" he cried to Hermione who squealed and clutched her hands to her face. They both watched helplessly. This was awful. They couldn't do anything to help him. He was out there all alone. Ron felt a sob catch in his throat. Then, suddenly, the dragon spread her wings and lifted into the air. Harry was diving and Hermione was beating Ron's arm.

"He's going to make it! He's going to make it!" she kept yelling. And just as suddenly, Harry grabbed the golden egg and it was all over.

Ron leapt to his feet screaming with joy along with the rest of the crowd, including Hermione who was jumping up and down beside him. Then she threw her arms around him in a giant hug and sobbed helplessly. Ron patted her back awkwardly.

"Oh thank God," she said. It took her a few minutes to gain her composure and then she grabbed his arm again. "Come on, we've got to go see him." And he let her lead him.

Hermione dashed into the first aid tent, dragging Ron behind her. When he first saw Harry, smudged with smoke and covered in medicinal goo, he knew he had to say something. But he couldn't find the words to say. It was Hermione who filled the silence between them.

"Harry, you were brilliant!" she squeaked, her face still shining with tears and marked with indentations where her fingernails had been clutching it in fear. "You were amazing! You really were!" But even though it was Hermione that was gushing, Harry was looking right at him, waiting.

Ron swallowed hard. "Harry," he said seriously, "whoever put your name in that goblet – I – I reckon they're trying to do you in!" He felt relieved to say it, but he saw the coldness in Harry's eyes and his heart plummeted.

"Caught on, have you?" Harry said. "Took you long enough."

Ron glanced at Hermione helplessly. She was wringing her hands, looking back and forth between them. It was his turn to be alone now. He knew that she couldn't give him the words to say. He knew that it was Harry who needed to hear an apology, not him, and he struggled to find the right words. How could he possibly apologize for everything. He opened his mouth and then he heard Harry.

"It's okay," he said, "Forget it."

"No," said Ron, "I shouldn't've—"

"_Forget it_," Harry said. And Ron knew that he didn't have to say anything. Everything was just the way it should be and they were friends again as if nothing had happened. He grinned nervously at him and Harry grinned back. Hermione, however, burst into tears.

"There's nothing to cry about!" Harry told her, bewildered.

"You two are so _stupid!_" she shouted, stamping her foot on the ground, tears splashing down her front. Then, before either of them could stop her, she had given both of them a hug and dashed away, now positively howling.

"Barking mad," said Ron, shaking his head. Harry and Ron grinned at each other, as if sharing an old joke they both knew and understood. "Harry, c'mon," Ron patted Harry's back, "they'll be putting up your scores." And they walked out of the tent, side by side to face the results together.

**Disclaimer: these characters are the sole property of JK Rowling. I did not create them.**


End file.
